This Mortal Coil
by withfireandblood
Summary: Klaus is battling a new curse that has put him in a cage of his own making. A very human Caroline stumbles across something dangerous on her hunt for a missing person. They meet with a spark, and the flames grow...
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note.

Hey everyone! Welcome to my new story! I'm playing it a bit closer to the source material this time, with one important twist. Caroline is human. This story takes place after the high school graduation, in a slightly altered world. Caroline wasn't turned by Katherine at the end of season one, so she is still human and unaware of all the messes her friends get into. Klaus' original trip into mystic falls was the same, Elena was turned, Katherine has been around, Tyler is a werewolf (but not a hybrid) A few characters have slightly different roles, but for the most part, this story exists in a universe very similar to the one on the show.

(obviously, I own nothing)

In this alternate universe, Klaus gets into a bit of hot water shortly after he breaks the hybrid curse. This is where our story begins.

* * *

"...To die, to sleep;  
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;  
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come  
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,  
Must give us pause: there's the respect  
That makes calamity of so long life;  
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,  
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,  
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,  
The insolence of office and the spurns  
That patient merit of the unworthy takes..."

William Shakespeare, Hamlet

* * *

** This Mortal Coil**

* * *

When Klaus Mikaelson set his mind to something, he did it. There was no trying, no agonizing over it. He simply took what he wanted, by force if needed.

Right now, what he wanted was to take Bonnie Bennett's heart out of her chest and eat it.

The witch was running through the forest, kicking up leaves, spreading her scent in the easiest path to follow. She wasn't even smart enough to switch up her path to slow him. The people of the old world knew better.

He could see her, hair whipping in the wind as she picked up speed. She was calling on her magic, her spirits. Call all you want, little witch, they won't help you here.

Then she tumbled to the ground. It was almost too easy.

He slowed as he approached her, each step bringing him closer to her pounding heart.

"How foolish are you, running here?" he said.

Bonnie looked around and he waited for the fear to spread.

They were in the old Mikaelson estate. She had run to the overgrown lawn of his former palatial home. There were still servants of his here, living on the grounds, keeping things in order. He was certain the ground she was crumpled on was just above the catacombs of the cellar that stretched out between the main house and the smaller estate at the back of the property, connecting them.

"You're the reason who Elena's a vampire. You killed Jenna, and Mr Lockwood, all those people. We all could have died."

"You say that like I should care."

"Don't you care about anyone other than yourself?" Bonnie asked.

He was growing annoyed with her. The least she could do would be to cower in fear, beg for her silly little life. No, this one had to be proud.

"You have something I want." he said. "Give it to me, and no one gets hurt."

"Elena will still get hurt."

"I'm not going to kill her." he said "It's quite the opposite. I'm going to cram this cure down her throat and she'll be good as new. No more sad little orphan vampire. I just want her blood. I'll be decent about it. She'll get three meals a day, a roof over her head. All I want in exchange is a pint of her blood every so often."

"But she'll be a slave." Bonnie protested.

He shrugged. "I don't care."

"You will." Bonnie sneered.

He sighed. "Well, it seems you aren't going to be cooperative. So let's get to the fun part, shall we?"

He lunged forward to tear out her heart and a force knocked him back. She stood up, arms outstretched, muttering something sinister in latin.

The ground below him shook.

It crumbled.

His head split open on the floor of the cellar.

* * *

Klaus woke up confused. It had been many years since he had been down here. He looked around and made a note to reprimand whoever had been charged with dusting these shelved. By the look of it, they had been helping themselves to the wine as well.

He looked up at the tiny hole the moonlight shone through. As an original, it was easy for him to propel himself up and out, and it was a lot quicker than walking though to the main house and going out the front door. He shot up and crashed violently against thin air, falling back down.

He rubbed the back of his neck, puzzled.

Klaus made his way through the catacombs and into the main house. A few servants were gathered in one of the sitting rooms. They all jumped to their feet when he arrived, but he ignored them. He went straight to the front door, swung it open and slammed into the nothingness, bouncing back onto the foyer floor.

Frantically, he threw a chair out a window and tried that, but it was also blocked by some unseen force.

He tried every entry point. He tore at a wall to make a new way to escape, but that failed as well. He took the catacombs to the little house out back and tried the same. It was no use. He was trapped.

* * *

One year later

* * *

Caroline had fallen asleep as soon as the guest left. Her graduation party was nice and pleasant. It was really all she could have hoped for, as much as that little nagging feeling in the back of her head longed for something more. Elena and Stefan and Bonnie had all made time to show up, and not one of them left early for some mysterious reason. They all actually stayed for the cake and wished her luck next year at NYU.

She was so ready for her life to begin.

It felt like all of her friends had these secret lives they were always slipping off too, like they were all out doing fun things without her. She knew Elena and Bonnie had secret jokes. Stefan would look world-weary and never explain why. They would have injuries they couldn't explain. They would all have to slip away at the same moment for some mysterious reason.

They thought she was too stupid to see it. She was just a dumb blonde.

But she knew there was something she was missing. She just hadn't figured out what.

It didn't matter.

In two months, she would be moving into her dorm room in New York City.

She had never been there, not even to tour the campus. They couldn't afford the trip, and her mother couldn't take time off work.

But she applied on a hope and a dream of actually seeing the world, and she made it. She made in completely on her own merits, and it was the thing she was the most proud of. She had worked hard, staying up all night studying, joining every club and becoming its president. She was cheer captain and held her head high when the rest of the student government made jokes about how cheerleaders were all dumb sluts. She still won student government president, and raised the most prom money in this history of the school. In the end, she was the only one from Mystic Falls to be accepted to NYU, and she knew she wasn't the only one to apply.

There was only one thing missing from the perfect little graduation party, and it was the shrill ring of him calling out to her that woke her up out of a dead sleep.

Caroline sprinted out of bed to grab the phone ringing in her purse.

"Tyler?" she asked.

"Hey, babe. Sorry I missed graduation."

"Tyler, I talked to the guidance counselors, and they say you have just enough absences to disqualify you from graduating. I told you not to take another trip. But it's ok, I worked my magic and did a few favors, and eventually they agreed to give you your diploma."

"That's great, Care."

She frowned at his lack of excitement. Didn't he know she just saved his life? Again?

"Ty, why didn't you call earlier?"

"Care, You know when I visit family there's no cell reception. We're out in the mountains."

"Yeah, I guess. But you missed the whole last month of school. You missed graduation, and my party. You missed prom, Tyler."

That was the worst offense. He had promised her all year that he wouldn't be away for that. She was the head of the planning committee, the decorating committee and she organized all the fundraisers. Yet on the day of the prom, Tyler couldn't make it. He couldn't even call her to say that he was going to miss it. She just had to do what she always did. She got her hair done, put on the perfect dress, and held her head high.

She had a good time, although it stung every time a slow song came on and she had to lean against the wall as all her friends paired off. Everyone was watching and whispering. Caroline Forbes, the smartest little idiot alive, unable to see everyone moving on from her.

"Care, it's just a dance."

"Just a dance?"

"I don't want to get into this again. I was just calling to say that I'm on my way back."

"You are?"

"Yeah. Care, I'm coming back. I'll be there by morning. I promise, I'll be there all summer. I won't leave until you have to go to NYU."

Caroline Forbes set her phone back down and looked out her window at the stars. Everything was going to be ok. Finally, everything would be just perfect.

* * *

Tyler took a shortcut through the old Estates. The Estates were a series of crumbling mansions that were spaced out several miles apart in a vast stretch of nothingness and overgrown forest. Several generations back, this is where all the wealthiest families in the area lived. His own grandfather had owned one of these homes. Now they all stood in disrepair, half of them abandoned, the other half occupied by delusional old men who clung to their former glory.

With a sputter and a pop, his car slowed to a halt.

He tried restarting, but it didn't work.

With a groan, he got out and opened the hood of the Escalade.

It was a fancy car for fancy boys who liked to play at being men.

Tyler Lockwood may have gotten dents in his and mud on the tires, but it was still a spoiled rich boy's car, and he was still a spoiled rich boy looking at the engine. He had no clue what he was looking at, only mimicking what he had seen other men do. He waited for something to look obvious, but eventually he gave up. He didn't understand how to fix a car. He had people for that.

He decided to call triple A, after all he was only a few hours away from Mystic Falls. Let them deal with the car. Caroline would be happy to drive him around until he got it fixed. In fact, she would love him not having a car. Controlling his ability to move about town would be his girlfriend's dream.

The full moon wasn't for anther few weeks, and if he needed to escape he could still lock himself in the old cellar.

It would all be fine.

He tapped on his phone and it refused to cooperate. No signal. Of course.

He flung the stupid thing across the deserted street, sending it skittering across the pavement and crunching against a rock.

Tyler knew someone was in one of these houses. Not all of them were abandoned. Some had feeble old men living in them, probably with beautiful nurses caring for their aching bodies. A few may have groundskeepers staying full time. He trudged down the road, looking for the nearest estates. The first one he passed, ironically, was his own families. Lockwood Estate. No one had set foot in that place for ten years. There wouldn't be so much as a working phone inside. They had gutted the place when Grandpa died and used the money for a trip to the Bahamas.

He trudged along, it was two miles before he reached the next monstrosity, towering in the night. The palatial Fell estate was pitch black and a quarter mile behind a barbed fence. He managed to find an opening in the fence, a place where the bars had bent, and he made his way through. Tyler trudged through the weeds and overgrown grass. He finally made it to the door and knocked. He tried the bell but it didn't make a noise. He knocked again and again, louder each time. Nothing. This one was abandoned too.

He begrudgingly made his way back to the gates, each step a frustrated stomp into the ground. He was too caught up in his frustration to hear the hiss of warning.

There was a sharp pain and he screamed into the abyss. He looked down to find a snake clamped onto his ankle. He knew from the look of it that it was venomous. No, no this could not be happening.

He hadn't had the experience of being bitten since he had become a werewolf, but he wasn't sure if the wolf healing would do anything to save him from a deadly bite. Quite frankly, he didn't want to wait and find out.

It was with a new sense of urgency that Tyler ran the next two mile stretch. He was gasping for breath and he could feel the poison seeping into his body and he took each step on blistered feet. There was another home within sight, this one up on a hill, higher than all the others. It was the largest one in this place and an involuntary shudder went through him as he remembered his grandfather's stories of those who used to live here.

Mikaelson.

There were lights on.

Someone was there.

They could call him an ambulance and this would all be over.

He ran at a full sprint through the open gate, up the lawn, to the front door.

He didn't even stop to knock. He twisted the handle and it opened.

Tyler staggered through the foyer. He shouted out to anyone who could hear him.

Then he saw the warm fire in a cozy sitting room. If he could just rest.

He sat down in a chair. The world was swirling. The poison was setting in.

A person flashed in front of him.

He felt a tug as he was tossed out of the chair and slammed on the ground.

He coughed and blood came up.

This was the end.

A young man's face was before him.

"Werewolf." the man said.

Tyler nodded, not bothering to deny it.

He sniffed and tried to figure out what the man was, to have such strength. Not a witch. He smelled like another wolf. No. A vampire. No. A wolf. Which was it?

"You're wounded, dying." the man said. "Something natural, it seems your healing abilities are no match for it. But what?"

Tyler pulled on his pant leg, revealing the bite.

"I thought Werewolves could beat a snake bite." the man said. "Perhaps you can, it will just take longer than healing from a knife. If you can hold out until the full moon, your wolf form will heal your human body. Or perhaps you won't heal. Nature finds a way to take what it wishes to take. Without the loophole I hold, you'll die."

"Help me." Tyler said.

The man smiled wickedly.

"No."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

* * *

Caroline woke up expecting flowers. Pancakes. An apology present that sparkled. At the very least, she expected Tyler Lockwood waiting on her porch, prepared to make it all up to her.

But he wasn't there.

Annoyed with him already, she called his phone and it went straight to voicemail.

Seriously, Tyler?

She fixed herself up and drove over to his house. She was in no mood to wait.

His mother answered the door, visibly annoyed with Caroline. Everyone knew Mrs Lockwood (now Mayor Lockwood after her husband's passing) thought the sheriff's daughter was too low class for her son. If Caroline was a Fell or Gilbert, she would be welcomed with open arms. But no one from the founding families made room for a Forbes.

Mayor Lockwood was curt, but she relayed the message that yes, Tyler was supposed to arrive late last night. No, he never came. No, it was nothing to worry about, he probably just decided to stop at a hotel.

Caroline called him again. Still nothing.

In a huff, she marched over to the local shopping center and found just what she was looking for. Little Jeremy Gilbert looking bored in the verizon store, playing a game on his phone as he waited for customers.

"Find him." Caroline said.

"This psycho girlfriend thing is getting old, Care." Jeremy said.

"He said he's be back by morning. He's not. He isn't answering his phone."

"So what, you think he's off with someone else?"

"No, every time he said he was somewhere without cell reception he was telling the truth. You looked it up, and he was in a dead zone. I don't think he's lying I think he's in trouble and I need to find him."

"What would your boyfriend say if he found out I helped you track his phone?"

"What would Bonnie say if she found out how you knew what her favorite things were and how you managed to give her the exact date of her dreams?"

"Fair enough Care, just give me a minute to look it up."

Caroline smirked and leaned against the counter as Jeremy accessed the private files in the computer.

"Huh." Jeremy said.

"What do you mean, huh?"

"Well, he's not at any hotel. At least his phone isn't"

"Then where is he?"

Jeremy turned the computer screen to show her them map. He pointed to a place in the middle of nowhere, a mile between two abandoned homes out in the old Estates.

"His phone deactivated here."

"What, like he turned it off?"

"No, like he broke it, or someone else did. Smashed the sim card."

"Oh my god." she muttered.

"Care, you know how he gets, with his temper. It probably wasn't working and he got mad and chucked it out the window."

"No, this is bad. Something's wrong."

"Care," Jeremy said. "The only thing that's wrong is that you're worrying about Tyler Lockwood when you're two months away from getting out of this place. Let it go. He's a jerk. You'll find someone better in New York."

"No." she muttered. "Something's wrong."

* * *

Caroline found his car. The keys were still in it. She found the smashed phone on the side of the road.

It took three tries for her car to start again. There was something strange about the energy of this place.

Caroline paused at several of the houses, peeking inside to see if anyone was there, anyone who could tell her if they had seen Tyler.

She decided to call her mother and ask for advice, but she wasn't getting any service on her phone.

It looked like she was on her own for this one.

And because everything else was falling apart, the sky chose that moment to open up and rain began pouring down.

Caroline was soaked to the bone. She shivered violently as she trudged through mud that clung to her pant legs, her hair matted to the side of her face.

After several empty homes she found one that was occupied. A man was sitting on the front porch along the front of the looming mansion. He was looking out at the storm and didn't see her running up towards him.

"Hello? Hello?" Caroline called out, picking up her pace as she walked towards him.

The man looked startled.

"Miss. Are you lost?"

"Yes, well, no. I was looking for someone. I think maybe someone here has seen him."

She made her way onto the porch and shivered as she stood, looking to him for help. If he was here last night, he would have certainly seen Tyler.

The man looked pale, and he glanced over his shoulder.

"You should go." he whispered. "Run away right now."

She shook her head. "No, you don't understand. I'm looking for someone who was here last night."

"Run." the man urged quietly. "Right now. Please."

Caroline stood her ground.

The front door flung open and she jumped.

A man leaned casually in the doorway. Caroline felt a blush creep up on her cheeks. He was the most impossibly beautiful man she had ever seen. For a moment she forgot what she had came for and she just took in the sight of him.

She was startled when he let a slight smirk creep up on one side of his mouth and he licked his lips. His eyes slowly assessed her. She felt herself burning up with the knowledge of how he was looking at her. Tyler had given her that look, once before. It was a time where he had been away for months. It was the look of a starving man, and she was a five course meal. His gaze was predatory, and she felt herself grow hotter and dizzier as he continued to stare. If she had better sense, she would have felt shame, but instead she just basked in it, feeling the warmth of his stare, his eyes all over her, those beautiful lips, slightly upturned as he was undoubtedly thinking about her.

The man broke his stare and looked to the other man who was tending the gardens.

"Where are my manners?" he said. "Please, come inside."

Caroline stayed frozen in place.

"Oh, I don't need to, I just wanted to ask-"

"Alaric, help the lady inside."

"Really, I just wanted to ask if you've seen-."

"We have." the man said. "Now come inside."

He disappeared back into the house, and Caroline could feel the man named Alaric rest one hand on her back and the other on her arm as he guided her into the house. She swore the was a look of regret in his eyes as he ushered her in across the doorway.

Alaric led Caroline into a sitting room, his grasp on her firm. Something told her it was unwise to try to wiggle away. Her gut told her to run, but she knew she wouldn't make it past the front door, much less to her car.

The beautiful man from the doorway was in there, his back to them. He turned around, holding two glasses of red wine.

"Thank you Alaric, that will be all." he said.

Alaric guided Caroline onto the sofa, released his grasp as she sank down, and with a pitying nod, he walked away.

Caroline was putting the pieces together. The one named Alaric was the help. The other man, who commanded and dismissed, he was the one in charge. But what was a young man doing out in the crumbling estates? Everyone knew this place was a ghost town, a place for old men and older money. Wealthy families used their homes in the Estates as storage for the furniture that didn't go with the new decorating scheme of their second or third home. No one actually lived here, save those on bedrest and those whose fortunes crumbled.

The beautiful man set the wine glasses on the end table next to Caroline and stood in front of her. He leaned forward, reaching toward her, and she flinched, closing her eyes.

He laughed, and hesitantly, she opened her eyes.

"Forgive me, you seemed cold and you're wet."

She glanced behind her, and saw there was a large blanket resting on the back of the couch.

"Oh." she muttered, burning up with embarrassment.

He put a hand on her shoulder as he reached behind her for the blanket and she felt an intense shock as he touched her.

Caroline gasped and looked at him.

He looked surprised, and she thought that perhaps he had felt it too.

For a second he paused, the smirk wiped off his face. His eyes went wide as he looked at her once more.

The man recovered quickly, grabbing the blanket behind her. He opened it and wrapped it around her, this time careful not to touch her as he did so.

"Thanks." Caroline said, curling into the warm blanket.

"Here. Drink" he said, offering her a glass of wine. He leaned back on the table opposite her, still very close. Too close.

She wrinkled her brow. "I'm eighteen." she said, looking at him as if he was crazy.

She wondered how old he was. Late twenties, early thirties?

"I don't care how old you are." he said. "Drink."

There was some insinuation in his words, she felt herself blush as he again offered the glass. She never drank wine. At parties it was beer, or hard liquor mixed with punch. Never wine.

She hesitantly took the glass and sipped. It was sour and burned on the way down.

"You don't like it." he said.

"No, I just don't usually drink wine."

"That's a shame." he said, smirking. "You're missing out on all the fun."

She blushed and tried another sip. It wasn't so bad. Maybe she would like wine if she got used to it.

A cold shiver ran through her as the water leaked through her hair and down her back. Out of desperation to numb the cold, she downed the rest of the glass.

He smirked.

He leaned forward again, this time slowly bringing his hand to her face. his fingertips ran along her jaw and Caroline had to fight back the urge to sigh at his touch. His hands felt like electric fire running over her. There was some energy pouring from him and she wanted more. So much more.

He slowly ran his thumb across her cheek, to the corner of her mouth, brushing her lip. He wiped away the wine she had so savagely splashed across her mouth. He pulled it back, stained purple and brought it to his own mouth. It was a moment of intimacy that surpassed any she had experienced and Caroline felt glued in place, desperate for him to try something else. She was transfixed by this elegant stranger.

"You're an exquisite beauty." he said, eyes roaming up and down her body, as if he was imagining what the blanket hid.

"Oh, no, I-" she started.

"That wasn't a question." he said. "I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. This would be me asking you something: What is your name, lovely?"

"Caroline." she stammered.

"Caroline." he said, tasting the word. She could tell he liked it, the sound of her name, the way he said it.

"And you are?"

"Oh, how rare it is that I meet someone who hasn't heard of me. You can call me Klaus."

"Klaus." she said.

"Yes, love. But it wasn't me you came here for, was it?"

She felt hot shame course through her. She had been sitting here in his blanket, drinking his wine, imagining his sinful hands, watching with envy as he licked his lips, all while she had so conveniently forgotten her reason for coming to this place.

"Tyler." she croaked out, the name seeming foreign, as if it was one she hadn't said in years. "I came here looking for my… for Tyler Lockwood. He was somewhere around here last night, and I wanted to know if you knew where he was?"

"Ah, so you're here for the little wolf boy."

"The what?" she said.

He smiled again. "Oh, he hasn't told you. What a naughty little wolf he is. And you're…" he paused and inhaled. "You're only human, aren't you?"

Caroline felt confused.

"Very well," he said. "I'll take you to him. Perhaps some dry clothes first?"

"He's here?" she stammered.

Klaus nodded calmly.

"Yes, you can't be in those wet clothes, let's see, I think we'll find something over here…"

He walked down the hall and she scampered to follow.

He went into a spare room and wiped dust off a trunk before opening it. Inside were some women's clothes. He tossed past the jeans and t shirts, pausing on a little dress, turquoise, with lace, made of thin silk.

"This would suit you." he hummed.

He slammed the trunk shut, and opened another drawer. Caroline tried to open the trunk up herself, and grab some jeans, maybe a sweatshirt, but it was too heavy.

He was flipping through a drawer of undergarments, pausing to check sizes on labels.

"I can find something myself." she said.

He dropped what he was holding.

"Of course." he said. "By all means."

She glanced back at the little dress and peeked into the drawer, hoping to find something full coverage and finding no such luck.

He was watching her.

"If you don't mind." she said.

"Of course, I'll wait outside." he responded.

Caroline found little scraps of lace that falsely claimed to be undergarments and set them down next to the dress. She was freezing in her wet clothes, there was no point in denying it.

She peeled it all off and changed into what he had set out. Her hair, still wet, sent droplets over her shoulder and caused her to shiver. She looked into the mirror and was surprised by what she saw. She looked good in the tight little dress. Her feet were bare and toes polished red, giving the whole look a more intimate feel. She fiddled with the thin lace bra she had selected, and wished there was something thicker in that drawer. Each cold drop of water that ran down her chest caused her nipples to harden, and they were clearly visible, taunt against the thin fabric of the dress. She ran her hands over her breasts, trying to warm them, but the second she touched herself, she began to think of the handsome stranger on the other side of the door. Klaus. She wondered about his thumb across her lip and imagined him running it over her nipple, cupping her breast. She could feel the thin panties stick to her as she grew wet with need, trying so hard not to think about him. It was like he was a drug. God, she wanted him. And here she was, dressed in pure sexual energy. He must smell it on her, how she wanted him, how it wouldn't take much convincing at all, how she needed him to reach down and touch her. He would own her. She would bend to whatever he requested. Unable to help herself, Caroline slowly dragged a hand down the silky dress, ghosting over her center. She bunched up the hem, biting her lip as she brought her hand closer. She couldn't believe herself, how little control she had. She was really going to do this here, now.

"Caroline?" a voice called out from the other side of the door. "Are you well?"

She scrambled to push the hem back down, cursing her body for betraying her. Her nipples showed no sign of softening, as they ached against the thin fabric. Out of desperation, she flipped her hair in front of her shoulders, trying to hide them, and she rushed out of the room.

She ran directly into him, and he reached out to steady her.

"Careful, little one." he murmured, brushing her hair back from her shoulder.

A whimper escaped from her lips as his hands ran over her bare shoulder.

She caught him looking and felt her cheeks redden as he exhaled a little too hard, unable to hide the way he stared down at her chest, at the tight little buds straining against the thin dress he had selected for her.

Klaus lost his place for a moment.

He forgot all about the plans for the day and wanted to shove her back into that room, to pin her against a wall as he brought his mouth to those tight little nipples. He wanted to suck on them through her dress until she begged him to take it off. Only then would he rip the fabric from her, destroying it. He would flick his tongue over her aching buds and caress her soft skin, massaging those gorgeous heaving breasts. He would tease her, running his hands over her, making her his. He wondered if he could do it now. If she would protest if he simply took her. If she would fight and run away or if she would give in to the pleasure he could give her.

She would be his.

There was no doubt in his mind.

There was no doubt since the moment he felt that shock, the first time he touched her. It was the sign of the impossible.

She was his. She didn't know it yet, but she was something special. He had read about supernatural creatures having soul mates, and feeling a rush of energy when they met, but he had never imagined it would happen to him. He didn't have enough of a soul left to have a mate. Yet here she was, and he couldn't think of a more perfect beauty. She wanted him, and he could smell her arousal through the door.

He was prepared to get on his knees and beg, gods, he wanted her. He needed a taste. He could smell the sweet warmth between her legs and grew hungry imagining what she tasted like. He needed her.

She had the nerve to brush up against him, taunting him with her hardened nipples, teasing him with her gorgeous breasts.

He would make her pay for that.

For every moment he had to wait, he would make her pay with the most exquisite agony.

He needed her panting, begging.

He needed her shamelessly rubbing herself against him. Reaching for his hand, placing it over her. He needed her whimpering for him.

And he would have it, soon enough.

There was just the matter at hand.

There was a wolf boy dying in the dungeons, and for some reason his little angel had flown into this place looking for that beast.

Reluctantly, he took her hand and led her down.

* * *

Caroline approached the heavy door. A small square was covered in bars.

"Go on love, see for yourself."

She looked in.

Tyler was on the ground, eyes yellow, veins rippling through his face. There was something very wrong. He had torn off the bottom of his left pant leg and there was a purple bruise marring his leg. He kept grabbing at it and howling in pain.

"What did you do to him?" she demanded. "What happened?"

"I did nothing." Klaus said. "But still, he is dying."

"Please, help him." she said, panic rising.

"No." he said.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to."

"But he's dying. Please. Let him out of there. Isn't there anything you can do?"

"There is something I can do." he said.

She froze, mistaking his statement for an offer.

"I can feed him my blood and it would heal him instantly. It would make up for whatever his inferior werewolf bloodline seems to be lacking, falling prey to nature itself." he said.

Caroline felt a surge of relief, and she waited expectantly for Klaus to open the door and do what he knew he could to save Tyler's life.

He didn't move.

Her face dropped.

"But you won't, will you?" she said.

"I see no reason to." he said.

She shivered in her thin dress. She no longer thought about his hands and wanting them to reach out to her. Bile rose up in her throat. How could she have been so foolish as to fall for this monster's charms? How could she have let herself be distracted by him? He was pure, loathsome evil.

"You want to watch him die?" she asked.

"It's better than watching him live."

"You don't feel anything, you wouldn't feel anything good about saving his life?"

"No."

"How can you be so cruel?"

"A thousand years of practice. And besides, I'm a keen observer of the human condition. I know how this story goes."

"What do you mean? You don't know him at all."

"Ah, but I do. I know by the brand of his watch and the lack of wear on his shoes. This boy has spent his life wanting for nothing. He even has you. You love him, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Yes, you do. But he doesn't love you. Not as you do. When he came down here last night and the pain started, he began to hallucinate. He called out for someone. But it wasn't your name. When he screamed and cried out, it was never Caroline he called for."

"He was probably calling out to his mother. She's all he has besides me, and he's all she has."

"Really." Klaus challenged. "Is his mother named Hayley?"

Caroline's face dropped. The girl who had come to stay last summer. Tyler said she was a friend. She went to camp with him a few years back. There was nothing romantic between them. But still, they phone calls were constant. She had her suspicions, but everyone told her how paranoid she could get, how she imagined things.

"I see the name stuck a chord." Klaus said.

"Don't listen to him, Care." Tyler shouted from in the cell. "He's a liar and a monster. Run, Care. Get out of here. He'll kill you."

Her eyes flicked back to Klaus, who seemed to be drawing closer to her. She leaned in to look at Tyler and Klaus came up behind her, resting his hand on her bare arm. She shuddered in revulsion. She could feel his touch snake through her entire body. She hated it, how much she could feel him there. She tried to squirm away, but he pressed up against her, keeping her pinned between his body and the cell door.

Tyler shuddered and began to gasp for breath.

"Please. Save him." she whispered.

"Why?" Klaus asked "So he can run away from this place with you on his arm? So the two of you can live forever happy? What do I get out of this arraignment? I'd rather keep my prisoner and have the pleasure of watching him die. I want to see the light leave his eyes and watch him turn to nothing, knowing he'll never have you again."

"Please. If you save him and let him go free, I'll stay here. Whatever you did to him to make him like that, you can do it to me. You can watch me die instead. Just let him go. Make him better and let him go. Please."

"No, Care! No! Get out of here!" Tyler shouted from within the cell. He coughed after every word, gasping, trying to keep his breath.

Klaus spun her around and shoved her hard against the wall.

He pinned her in place with a hand on each shoulder. She was shivering in fear as his eyes turned yellow and veins moved under his skin. He was more than human. He was something else.

"You would sacrifice your life for him? You would die so he could live?"

"Yes."

"What if I don't want you to die?"

"But you said, you wanted to watch him die, I would be just as good."

"No. If you stay here in his place, it won't be like this. You won't get off so easily."

"I'll do whatever you want, please."

"If you exchange your freedom for his, you are bound to this place, do you understand me? You stay here. With me. Forever."

"I understand."

"You will belong to me. You will do as I say. I will own you."

She shuddered at the insinuation behind the words. She knew from the way he looked at her what he wanted to do with her. Before, she had let herself feel something stir from it. She had allowed herself to imagine how it might be. But now she knew he was a monster and she couldn't imagine it. It would be terrible. He would hurt her. His touch made her feel trapped. She needed to get away from him. He terrified her.

"Yes." she said, swallowing all her fear. "If you heal him, and let him go, I'll stay here."

"Do you swear it?" he asked.

"I swear."

"Say it. Say that from the moment he leaves this place, I own you. Your freedom is mine. Your body is mine. Your life is mine."

A single tear slid down her cheek as she let go of the future she had worked so hard for.

"You own me." she said.

He grabbed her chin roughly and looked directly into her eyes. She couldn't look away.

There was a fuzzy moment where it felt as if her brain had paused.

He backed away from her and nodded.

"It's done." he said.

He ripped the cell door open and Tyler scurried across the floor to back away from him. Caroline heard the tearing of flesh but refused to look as Klaus bit into his own arm and pulled back Tyler by his hair, forcing his mouth open, then letting the blood drip into his mouth.

As soon as the blood was in his system, Tyler felt himself come back to life. He tried to run toward Caroline but Klaus blocked him and slammed him into a wall, holding his face so he was forced to look at him.

"You will forget this place. As soon as you leave you will never be able to find this place again, even if you spend your entire life looking. You will not forget the girl, or me. My name will escape your mind, but my face will be there forever. Every day you will remember her, and you will remember how easily I took her from you. Your thoughts will be tormented by images of her, writhing from my touch. You will know that she has forgotten you completely. You will remember how I cast you out, because you are nothing. She will never set eyes on you again."

Tyler nodded, the compulsion sinking in.

"Now leave." Klaus said, shoving him toward the door.

"Wait." Caroline called out, but it was too late. Tyler was gone.

Her eyes filled with tears, and she tried to blink them back. She tried to look brave in the face of the monster.

"You didn't even let me say goodbye." she said.

He felt pity for the girl. Panic, even, that he had done something wrong. She shouldn't be on the verge of tears. He had done her a favor? Why couldn't she see that? He considered consoling her. But she couldn't manipulate him into getting her way. He had to set the tone from the beginning. He had to send the message that he was in charge.

"Goodbyes were never part of our arrangement." he said.

She folded her arms over her chest, protecting herself. She looked down, averting his eyes.

"Don't you do that." he growled. "Don't act like I forced this on you. This was your choice. You wanted this."

She looked up at him, stunned.

"Do you have any idea what I just lost?"

"Your stupid little wolf? Can't you see he was lying to you? He never even told you what he was."

"Not him. Everything. I was going to get out, see the world. Now I never will."

He felt a pang of guilt. If he had the ability, he would love to show this girl the world. But he couldn't. He was stuck here, and as much as he hoped to break the curse, he still didn't know what bound him. It was likely that he would be here forever. At least now she would be here forever too. She would hate him and she would resent this place. But it was something. He could possess her. He could watch her every day. It was better than letting her be free and happy without him. How could he let her leave, after feeling that spark? After knowing what she must be?

"Well, we all have to live with disappointment. Alaric will show you to your room."

With a flash, he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Caroline heard another person walk softly toward her. She made out his figure through tears, and blinked to see him. Alaric.

He bent down to help her up and guided her up the stairs and up another flight.

There was a heavy door toward the end of the left wing of the second floor.

"He wants you to have this room." Alaric said.

She just nodded.

Alaric opened the door.

If she was in better spirits she would have been blown away by it's beauty. It was breathtaking. Ornate gold sofas and a four post bed with gauze draped across the posts, shimmering magenta silk sheets, fluffy down blankets, large floor pillows in jewel tones. This was a room for a princess.

Alaric showed her the bathroom within the room and there was a beautiful claw foot tub, glass bottles of perfumes and oils and bubble bath.

He directed her to the closet, which was vast and empty.

"We weren't expecting you, madam, so it will take some time to order clothing and all the other things you require. The trunks downstairs are fair game should you wish to select some items from them. They belonged to … well no one is coming back to claim those items. But you'll have your own things, soon enough. I can take down your measurements and sizes, and you'll select whatever you wish from the deliveries.

"Because I'm here forever. I can never go shopping again. I can't get my stuff from home." she said, dazed.

Alaric shifted uncomfortably. "Well, no. I suppose not. But If I can speak honestly…"

"You may."

"He spoke to me about your arraignments. He wants you to be comfortable during your stay here. No expense is too much. Whatever you need, he will provide. Between you and I, he does like to be asked, and thanked. But you don't need to worry about material needs."

"I can just order my own clothes online, is there a laptop somewhere?"

"He won't give you that."

"What?"

"He instructed me not to provide you with a phone or internet access. You can't be trusted not to call for help."

"Oh."

"I'm really sorry, miss."

"It's Caroline. And don't be sorry. If I listened to you in the first place, I wouldn't be here."

"If he knew I tried to warn you…"

"I won't tell him."

"Thank you." Alaric said. "I hope we can be good company for each other during our stay here."

"Are you trapped here forever too?"

"Not trapped, exactly. But yes, I stay here. Myself and a few other servants, although they tend to stay behind the scenes, I doubt you'll ever see them."

"So no one is allowed to leave? Why?"

"I can't tell you. However there is a man who comes and goes, you should meet him soon."

"Who's that?"

"Klaus's… friend. His name is Marcel. He brings things, entertains Klaus, brings news of the world. Then he leaves again, sometimes days, weeks, even months. He brings happiness with his visits."

"I don't know if I can be happy again. I just gave my entire life away."

"I'll leave you for now. Klaus has requested your presence at dinner. He left this for you to wear."

Caroline looked down at the box Alaric presented and pulled it open. Inside was a deep burgundy dress with a plunging neckline. She shut the lid and pushed the box back.

"I'm not hungry."

"It won't be for another hour."

"I'm not going."

"Miss Caroline, I think you should reconsider."

"If he's going to force me to eat dinner with him, he can come up here and drag me."

"Very well." Alaric said. He left and shut the door behind him.

Caroline curled up in the bed and sobbed. She couldn't stop crying until she had worn herself out and fell asleep.

She was awakened by crashing downstairs.

A glass shattered.

A metallic smash rattled and reverberated.

"What do you mean, she's not coming?" Klaus shouted.

She listened for Alaric's hushed response and couldn't make out the words.

"Who does she think she is? Too good to sit down with me?"

"She's upset, having a hard time adjusting…"

"She's not in charge here! I am! I make the rules!"

"I think you should give her time."

"No one asked what you think, Alaric."

There was another loud crash and Caroline could hear someone stomping up the stairs. Her door slammed into the wall so hard it stuck.

Klaus marched across her room to where she was huddled on the bed.

"I gave you an order." he said, quietly and evenly.

"I'm not hungry." she said, using every ounce of her courage to keep her expression neutral.

"Then don't eat. But you will be present. And you will wear that dress." he said, pointing to the burgundy dress crumpled in on the floor. "You have two minutes."

He marched back out, yanking the door out of the wall and slamming it shut behind him.

Caroline took a deep breath and walked across the room to the bathroom and washed her face.

She peeled off what she was wearing and walked back over to the burgundy dress. She put it on and rolled her eyes at how she looked. It was so not her. It plunged deep down the middle, revealing a massive amount of cleavage. And the long skirt was tight, impossible to walk in without taking the smallest steps.

She looked it over in the bathroom mirror and a pair of scissors on the counter caught her eye.

* * *

Klaus paced the dining room. He had said two minutes. It had been five.

He looked over the meal he had laid out. It was starting to grow cold. It would have been perfect if she had just arrived on time. Why couldn't she just do what he wanted her to do?

He was about to storm back up the stairs when the floor creaked, revealing her presence.

Each time he looked at her, he was stunned all over again by her beauty. She really was the most stunning thing he had ever seen. It took him a minute to realize that her dress was not quite what he had in mind.

She had put the thing on backwards, obscuring her chest, but leaving her back exposed. And it was accentuated by how she had styled her hair, thrown up in a messy bun at the nape of her neck. The skirt flowed freely around her legs, giving a glimpse of skin. She had cut a slit up one side, up past the knee.

He could chide her for taking a pair of scissors to a thousand dollar gown, but in all honestly it was an improvement. And it was her. She was showing him that she would bend, but only so much. He had told her to wear the dress, and she had, but on her own terms.

He motioned for her to join him at the table, holding out a chair for her.

He pushed it in when she sat and moved across the table.

He could see her eyeing the food, contemplating the choice between her hunger and her pride.

"I know you said you weren't hungry, but I suggest you try a little."

She bit her lip.

"It's imported from France." he offered.

"I'm not hungry." she said.

"I suggest you eat."

"No thank you."

He grumbled at her response, and picked at his own food. It didn't taste nearly as good as he would have hoped. The entire meal had been spoiled by her mood.

He tried to be polite.

He tried to offer her another meal.

He tried to bring out dessert.

Each time she refused.

Eventually, he relented, and watched in disappointment as she walked back up the stairs, ready to spend the first night of her imprisonment alone.

He found a tumbler of scotch and poured a generous glass. He needed more than wine to get through tonight. Niklaus Mikaelson, dammed and shunned. Was this part of his hell? Even a girl he dragged in with him wanted nothing to do with him.

There was a knock at the back door.

Marcel was there, a grin across his face.

"Got your favorite, Chinese takeout."

Klaus bit into the delivery girl's neck and drained her.

* * *

Caroline woke to the sound of men laughing.

It was an unfamiliar noise. She was used to living with a single mother, no brothers.

She listened to them carry on and joke and she wondered if this was the same place she had fallen asleep in. Last night it seemed like a torture chamber, full of sullen, formal people.

She tried to find something to wear in the pile of borrowed clothes that looked like it didn't belong to a french hooker, and finally settled on a pair of grey pencil jeans and a few tank tops that looked nice layered together. She rummaged through the bathroom cabinets and found some products that smelled nice, and put herself together before padding down the stairs.

The smell of coffee and bagels was in the air and she all but ran towards it.

She followed her nose into the kitchens and crept toward the spread on the countertop.

"What did I tell you." A voice behind her made her jump.

Caroline spun around to see Klaus and an unfamiliar man.

"See, I told you. American girls go for coffee and bagels." The man said. "keep it simple."

"Who are you?" Caroline said, taking a step away from him.

"How rude of me" Klaus said. "Caroline, Marcel."

"Nice to meet you" the man said, offering a hand.

She shook it apprehensively. She expected a shock like the first time Klaus touched her, but didn't feel one. Maybe this man was a different type of monster.

"Yeah, I see it alright." Marcel said. "the energy is there too. Now I get what you were saying ab-"

"Marcel, another time." Klaus said.

Marcel smiled, getting that Caroline wasn't quite clued in. "Alright, lets let the lady have some coffee."

He grabbed a plate and put a bagel on it for her, helping her find a mug in the cabinet. Klaus motioned for her to take the sugar and cream he had set out.

"Did you sleep well?" Klaus asked her.

Caroline nodded, unsure of what to expect from him. He seemed shy, reserved, compared to the angry man she saw last night.

Marcel guided Caroline over to a covered porch behind the kitchen. "Klaus always likes to eat breakfast back here." he said.

Caroline nodded and sat, Klaus keeping a safe distance from her and choosing the chair opposite her.

Marcel plunked down on the couch right next to her, which made Klaus grit his teeth.

"So, I got in late last night" Marcel said " Must have been after you fell asleep. Anyway, I heard that you were here, so I ran out this morning for breakfast, figured Klaus would try to whip you up some awful British disaster."

"Mate." Klaus spoke through clenched teeth. "Can we not?"

"He's just grumpy." Marcel said, ignoring Klaus. "But hey, who could blame him, he's been trapped here for the past year."

Caroline looked at Klaus, who was glaring at Marcel. Clearly, he was not planning on sharing that part.

"You're trapped here?" Caroline said.

He nodded.

"Pissed off the wrong witch." Marcel said, reaching for some jam. "But no matter, we're working on finding the loophole. Every spell has one. Until then, I guess you're stuck here too, huh?"

Caroline nodded shyly.

"Good. the old man could use some new company in his life. He's already heard all my stories, and Alaric's not getting any younger."

Klaus shook his head in annoyance.

"Now." Marcel said. "Tell me what you want from New York."

"New York?" Caroline said "How do you know about New York?"

Marcel tilted his head. "I just meant, that's my next trip. I run errands for Klaus while he's stuck here. I'm going there this week. He said to ask you what you want from there. I'll bring anything back. He's paying, so go for the big guns. Prada. Dior. Chanel."

"I was supposed to go to NYU in the fall. I was accepted there and I said yes." Caroline said, trying to smile through the tears that pricked her eyes.

"Tough break, kid." Marcel said. "I heard what you did to get yourself stuck here. NYU, huh? So you're smart and brave."

"Caroline." Klaus said. "Marcel is leaving now. Is there anything you'd like him to bring back for you?"

"I don't know." Caroline said. "I've never been there. I guess I'm never going to know whats so special about New York."

Marcel touched her shoulder and Klaus glared at him hard enough for Marcel to move his hand away.

"I'll find you some good stuff." Marcel promised. "It'll be like you were there. Ok?"

She nodded, and Klaus saw Marcel out.

* * *

The next week went by slowly. Caroline learned the routine of things. She learned when Alaric answered the door for deliveries, Klaus liked to watch from one of the upstairs windows. She learned that there were four other servants, but they stayed in the kitchens and occasionally the back house, only coming out when Alaric requested assistance.

She learned that Klaus had a sister named Rebekah, although he wouldn't say much about her. Most of the clothes and women's toiletries in the house had been hers, but she wouldn't miss them.

She learned the Klaus read in the mornings with a cup of tea, that he ran across the cellar to the back house and ran back, because it was the best stretch of road for him to run on. He hadn't taken her to see the back house yet, and she didn't ask.

He occasionally requested her presence during the day. He would find things to show her, paintings, books, candy. He would watch her expression, hoping to find something she liked. She remained stoic, polite, but never smiling. He looked disappointed when she didn't jump with excitement. Sometimes he would quietly excuse himself and she would hear crashing and shattered glass.

His temper was worse than Tyler's, although she did notice that he had the decency to try to hide it from her. How many times had she narrowly missed Tyler's fist slamming into the wall, or a glass shattering right beside her?

Sometimes she forgot that he was so terrible. That he wanted to watch Tyler die. That he certainly did something awful to end up trapped in this place.

Sometimes she felt the ghost of a smile creep up when he told a terrible joke that even her grandfather would roll his eyes at. Or when she noticed how he kept track of her preferences with impeccable accuracy, serving food she preferred more often and forever banishing anything she had only picked at.

But then there was the howling at night.

She thought she was dreaming the first time.

The screams were more animal than human.

But she approached the sound and Alaric found her in the hall and ushered her back to her room.

"Why is he screaming?" she asked.

Alaric quietly revealed that it was part of the curse put on Klaus and that it was best not to disturb him.

Some morning he looked more tired than others, but always he needed his peace in the morning. An old book and a cup of tea brought him back to his self. Caroline learned to leave him alone during that time.

Mostly, he kept his distance. He seemed almost afraid of her, like she was some mysterious creature he studied. If he found her sitting in a room, reading a book, he would pick up his own and sit in the opposite corner. No words would be exchanged. she caught him staring only one. There were other times when the faint snap of a hardcover book caused her to stop and shot him a questioning look. He would mutter something about cheaply made products and leave the room in a huff.

She still didn't know where he slept. It was somewhere on the third floor. Alaric had warned her against going up there, and while the warning was reason enough for her to want to explore, she had decided to be careful for the time being.

All she had in this place was her routine. She saw him daily, but she had so much time to herself. It was enough buffer to avoid feeling anything for him. She only had small doses. He was easy enough to ignore. She would repeat this mantra. She would forget how much she liked the look of concentration on his face when he flipped through a book. She would ignore how she preferred the way he guided her through the halls with one hand on her back, as he found another artifact to show her. He was just a part of her new daily routine. He was nothing. She had read all about Stockholm Syndrome and would not be tricked it feeling something positive towards him.

* * *

One night she was surprised when Klaus didn't send strict instruction to her room about what time to be down for dinner and what to wear.

She hesitantly went down to the dining room at seven, wondering if he forgot about her.

Instead, he was waiting for her, dressed in his casual attire. Henly shirt, mysterious bunch of necklaces and leather cords hanging from his neck.

She watched, curious, as he fussed over arranging the food, then returning the silver covers over the plates.

"Hello" he said brightly. "We have steak tonight, with french fries, as you call them. You said you liked them."

She nodded that she did.

He motioned for her to sit.

"I like what you selected to wear tonight." he said, motioning to her blue dress. "It suits you."

"Thank you." she said. "You don't look so bad yourself."

He grinned, quick to hide it from her sight, and it was the first time she saw him smile without smirking.

They ate quietly, and he quickly got up, nervously wiping his hands on his pants.

This was usually the part where he begrudgingly excused her and she went back up to her room for the remainder of the night. Their shaky arrangment had rested on her agreeing to eat dinner with him and him agreeing to leave her alone the rest of the time.

"You're free to go back to your room, of course, but I was wondering if you would join me?"

She nodded and followed him to one of the sitting rooms.

He looked mischievous as he led her to the table. On it were about thirty uncorked wine bottles and empty glasses.

"What's this?" she asked.

"I remember you didn't like wine, or you said you hadn't really tried it. So I thought you might want to try a little of each, to find one you like."

"I'm not going to sleep with you just because I get drunk." she said.

"Wouldn't dream of making such an assumption. Although, technically, I believe I can call in that favor whenever I want, according to the terms of our agreement."

"But you won't"

"I won't have to."

"You really think I'm going to get bored enough to consider you an option?"

"Either that, or you'll fall prey to my irresistible charm." he smirked.

"I'm not as dumb as I look."

"That's why I like you."

There was a moment that hung in the air, where they both considered it. She thought for the first time since that first day, about how it would feel to kiss him. He tried to calculate his chances, if he went for it now.

She shifted awkwardly.

"So, am I going to get to drink some of this wine?" she asked.

"That's the idea."

She looked over all the pretty bottles on the table. The colors and shapes varied, some labels in handwritten script, other with lovely pictures.

"I think I want to try this one." she said, pointing to a bottle made of blue glass.

"You're going to judge them based on the labels, aren't you?" he said.

She smiled and nodded.

"We can't have that, now can we?"

He ran his hand along the table until he reached a cloth napkin, and ran it between his hands.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

She shook her head no, but she was still smiling.

He held up the napkin and waved it.

She tried to reach for it but he pulled it back.

She leaned towards him and tried to grab it but he held it behind him, forcing her to reach her arms around him, she tried to get leverage, leaning one hand on his chest as she stood on her tiptoes, and he continued to taunt her, waving it just out of reach.

He pulled it a little higher and she slipped, but before she could fall, he grabbed her and spun her around so her back was to him.

"I win." he whispered into her ear.

"Alright, alright, you win." she conceded, "Now what?"

"Stay still." he said, and he brushed her hair away from her face. "Close your eyes." he said.

He folded the cloth and wrapped it over her eyes, tying it behind her head.

Caroline felt her stomach flip and she reached for his arm as he adjusted her blindfold. She felt unsteady on her feet, not being able to see, and for some reason, the worst thing that could happen would be him walking away.

"You're alright." he murmured. "I've got you."

"Don't you dare walk away." she warned.

Klaus grinned, leaning his chin on the top of her head.

It was the most he could have asked for.

"I'm not going anywhere." he promised.

He nudged her forward, keeping contact with her as he reached for one of the glasses.

He put it in her hands.

She took a sip.

"This one's bitter." she said.

"Try it again, focus." he said, running his hand up and down her arm.

Caroline felt every nerve stand on edge. A moment ago they were playing around. An hour ago they were at a distance. But now, everything felt like it was charged with an energy she didn't want to admit she felt. She was surrounded by darkness, letting him guide her. How had she agreed to this game. The silence was too much. It was too intimate. There was nothing to concentrate on but his touch, the way he smelled. Even the wine she tasted was him, running through her.

She took another sip, this time taking much more.

"Easy, sweetheart." he mused, prying the glass from her hands. He took a long sip and finished the glass, setting it down and selecting another. He poured a generous glass from the second bottle.

"Why are you pouring such big glasses if you don't want me to drink it all?"

"The rest is for me."

"So you're drinking too?"

"Mmmhmm."

"And why aren't you blindfolded?"

"One of us needs to be in charge."

"And it had to be you?"

"Always."

He brought another glass to her, helping her hands find it. He watched her take the sip and tilt her head back ever so slightly as she enjoyed it.

"That one was nice." she said. "It was sweeter."

He drained the rest and poured her another.

"Try this one."

They repeated the process, her taking small sips, him draining glasses, and their drinking in unequal measures brought them to an equal level of intoxication, both of them feeling pleasantly numb. She grew more trusting of him, letting him guide her body and move her. He grew more bold, his hands never leaving her, constantly caressing her wherever he thought she might let him touch.

"It's too quiet." she said.

He guided her across the room so he could turn on the music without having to break contact.

She giggled at his selection.

"Really?"

He shrugged.

"They played this song at my prom." she said absently.

"I'll bet you were the queen." he said.

"No." she sighed, "One of my friends was. Even though I planned the whole thing, and set it up and-"

"And you were the most beautiful woman in the room."

"Um, no. Not even. And you can't even say that, you don't know what the other girls look like."

"I don't need to." he said, tracing a line along her shoulder. She shivered, but smiled and leaned back against him. He liked her like this. Blindfolded and half drunk. If he was just able to block out the rest of the world entirely, she might actually give him a chance. If she forgot about how he had forced her into this arraignment, about how there was so much more out for her out there, out in the world he couldn't be a part of, maybe, just maybe, she might think of him as more than just someone she was forced to spend time with.

"Would you feel better if I killed the prom queen for you and gave you her crown?" he offered nonchalantly. "In fact, I could get rid of your date as well. Did he get too handsy? Bad dance partner? Tell me how awful he was."

"Stop." she laughed. "The girl who won was my friend. Is my friend. Who I miss, since you won't let me leave."

"Only because you wouldn't come back…"

"You don't know- anyway. She was my friend. I was happy for her. And for your information, I didn't even have a date."

"Now you're just lying." he said. He was lucky for the blindfold over her eyes. She couldn't see the stupid grin on his face when she objected with 'you don't know', her almost maybe to the question he was too afraid to ask. Would she stay if he gave her a choice? Klaus Mikaelson never picked a fight he couldn't win or made a bet he wasn't certain of, and at this point things were far too uncertain. But an almost maybe from her was ten times better than a yes from anyone else. And now he had the treat of hearing about how she was alone at her prom? In some strange world, this girl was left without a dance partner at the dance she organized. He didn't mean to be gleeful at her misfortune. Just the opposite. He wanted to look every silly little boy in that school square in the eye and demand to know where their sense of sight went in the weeks before prom. Where their common courtesy went, at that. In his day, a lady was never want for a chaperone, even if she was just walking to the river. It was a gentleman's honor. How had no one stepped up to help her, of all people? On top of his confusion was the smug knowledge that whatever memory she had to share of that night wouldn't involve some little boy's sweaty hands all over her.

"You don't believe that I went alone?" she said.

"Impossible."

"Well, I did. It was embarrassing, but what was I gonna do, not go? I worked hard on making that dance happen. I was going to be there, date or not."

"No one asked you?"

"I was with Tyler, and he was away."

"Mandatory military service? Involuntary psychiatric lockdown?" he asked.

"No."

"Surely, he must have had some excuse worthy of missing such an occasion."

"Just because you think proms are stupid doesn't mean you should make fun of what I like."

"I wasn't joking, sweetheart. I was only curious. What was more important than you?"

"Sometimes, it feels like everything. I've never been anyone's first choice or top priority." she said quietly.

He pulled her closer and held her tight, not saying anything.

"Stay here." he said, too quiet for her to hear.

It was a dangerous thing to say, to ask her to choose it. She wouldn't choose it. She wouldn't choose him. He had to take the choice away in order to get the results he needed. Klaus Mikaelson knew how to stack the deck. He had been doing it for centuries.

He was no longer solely concerned about his want to keep her. Now he realized the world shouldn't have her. They didn't deserve her or know how she should be treated. He needed to hold on to her. What would it be like for her out there, with that world full of fools who couldn't see her for what she was?

They shared a silence that hung in the air. He was lost in thought. She was anxiously trying to think of anything to say, to break up the quiet. She didn't like how nice it felt to just be with him, quietly, in this moment.

So she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Aren't you like, a million years older than the person singing this song? Shouldn't you be listening to like Mozart and stuff?

"I may be ancient, but I do like new things, in addition to the classics. What would you prefer?" he asked.

"Something slow." she said.

He flicked through the selections and landed on something slow and sexy, and decided to risk it. After all, she had requested slow.

"Can I have more?" she asked.

He had to keep from responding that he would give her the moon if she asked. It would be dangerous to open even a sliver of himself to her. She would just stomp all over it. Besides that, despite himself, he was starting to believe this whole mate thing. He couldn't tip his hand. There would be too much power for her if she knew.

"Which one?" he asked, looking over the open bottles.

"The one that was my favorite."

She didn't need to specify. He had read it on her face, the way she smiled and snuck in a second sip before he took the glass. From the second she tasted it, he committed the name and year to memory. She would never be without it.

He poured her a full glass and guided her hands.

She took a long sip and hummed with pleasure.

"You're right." she said. "I like wine."

She started to sway to the music and he stood still behind her, letting himself enjoy the feel of her rubbing against him.

"You're not dancing." she said.

"You want me to?"

She giggled and held on to his arm as she swayed her hips, brushing her backside against him with each movement.

He wasn't a child.

He bit his tongue and reminded himself of it over and over. He wouldn't let this undo him. He had bedded the most sought after women in history. He had destroyed empires by ruining queens for their husbands. He wouldn't let some silly little teenage girl control him with a wiggle of her hips. It didn't matter that she felt exquisite moving against him.

She shoved against him playfully, and he conceded, swaying his hips to match her movements.

The music picked up a little and he gained control, holding on to her hip and guiding her movements.

Even with all the alcohol coursing through his system, he couldn't dull the sensation of her up against him. He didn't want to.

She rocked her hips, hard. He wasn't making her do that. She took another sip and wiggled against him. Now she wasn't even dancing, she was just rocking against him.

She wanted this. She was doing it on purpose.

He felt a twitch as he allowed himself to fall prey to her ministrations, and then with each rock of her hips, he grew harder. His cock ached against his pants with every indirect contact she brought.

He wondered if she noticed it, if she minded.

She hummed a sigh and rocked her incredible ass against him, rolling her hips, targeting his hard cock.

And then he realized she was doing it intentionally. She was trying to get him hard. It made him want her even more. She had played with him.

He could play as well.

He gripped her by the hips and pushed her hard against his straining bulge.

She whimpered.

"You like that?" he asked, and she could only hum a response, her fingers digging into his arm as she pulled him closer.

Oh yes, she did. She liked what she felt. And she wanted him.

His hands grew bolder as he rocked against her, pushing her hips against his body, gripping handfuls of fabric. Her free hand went over his, guiding his hand, encouraging it. His thumb ghosted against the underside of her breast and she gasped out, leaning her head back on his shoulder. She was still blindfolded. Her lips slightly parted, leaning back. She was silently begging him to kiss her. She was giving in completely to what he could offer her, letting him shape her world.

_I knew it wouldn't take long, _he thought, and with his flair for the dramatic, he spun her around, eager to press against her and let her feel her against him. He wanted to face her the first time he kissed those lips.

She wasn't prepared for the spin and she yelped, dropping her wine glass against the hard tile floor. It shattered, spilling dark red wine all over and one of the shards landed in her leg.

The moment was gone.

Not only had he managed to mess this one up, but now she was bleeding, and he was in no state to exercise self control.

She pushed the blindfold off and with dazed eyes looked around at the mess she had made.

"Oh no." she whispered.

As if seeing the light had brought her back to her senses, she looked around the room in horror, and shifted away from him. He saw the clouded lust fall away and the flicker of disgust before she began to panic about the mess.

"You're bleeding." he said. "Don't move."

He picked her up to carry her away from the shattered glass, and he did not miss the way she tensed up as he touched her. She wasn't leaning into him anymore. That had passed.

He brought her into one of the bathrooms where the light was good and sat her on the counter.

"I'm sorry about the glass." she said, unable to look him in the eyes.

He could smell the shame on her, how much she hated herself for almost giving in to him, for almost letting it happen. He didn't even have a chance to kiss her. He chided himself for not moving faster, for not grabbing the moment when it presented itself.

"Don't worry about the glass, it gives Alaric something to do."

She glanced at him quickly, before looking away. He could tell she was gaging his response, expecting something worse. He recalled the filthy little boy she had come to save was a werewolf, and their kind were known for their tempers.

"Really, I think you should break things more often." he said. "the servants have grown complacent, and they're getting quite lazy with no one to clean up after."

She giggled and swatted at him.

He smiled back at her, then moved down to the floor below her.

He grabbed her ankle and inspected in. There was a shard of glass just above his hand, that was deeply embedded in her skin. Other than that, she seemed unharmed.

"I need to get the glass out." he said. "This may hurt."

She nodded.

He hovered his finger over the glass. The smell of her blood was terribly distracting. It was better than wine. It was better than sex. It was impossibly mouthwatering. His fangs came out and the veins moved under his eyes. He had hoped she wouldn't see, but judging by the way she jerked back, she had, and she was afraid.

He pulled the glass out and flicked it away into the garbage.

Her heart was pounding.

The little trickle of red begin to run down her leg.

Her heart was only making it come out faster.

He wouldn't do anything. He just wanted to smell it. She smelled so good. He rested his face against her leg, inhaling the scent of her blood, using every ounce of willpower to keep from tasting her.

"Are you going to bite me?" she said, terrified.

"No." he managed to croak out.

"So it's true. You are a…"

"Vampire." he said. "Among other things."

"You drink blood." she said.

He nodded.

"You want to drink mine right now."

He nodded again.

"Will it hurt? If you do?"

"Not if I don't bite you."

"So don't bite me. Please."

He looked up at her, stunned. "You don't mind, if I…"

She nodded. "It's ok. Just don't hurt me."

He didn't stop to argue. Instead he leaned his face into her thin, smooth leg, and kissed it.

He felt her shudder.

He licked where the droplet of blood had flown and it exploded in his mouth, the most impossible pleasure. Hungrily, he licked up to the spot where the glass had punctured her, and carefully, so as not to scratch her with his fangs, he placed his lips over the wound and let the blood pool in his mouth. He sucked hard on her, trying to draw more blood out. She was intoxicating. He had never experienced anything like it. He wanted to drain her and he wanted to fuck her and he wanted to keep her locked away where he could taste her whenever he wanted. It was everything good in life, pooling into his mouth. She was everything.

It was with the greatest restraint imaginable that he let go, licked her wound to let it heal, and placed one more soft kiss on the place where the wound had been.

He slowly regained his composure and felt his fangs go away before standing up to face her.

She looked flushed, sweat beading on her forehead, bewildered.

"That was weird." she said quietly.

He nodded in agreement, and helped her down from the countertop.

She was unsteady on her feet, and he offered an arm to help her, but she backed away.

"I think I need to go to sleep now." she said, staggering out of the room.

"I'll help you to-"

"No." she cut him off. "I'll be fine."

He listened to her climb the stairs and make her way to her bedroom before he sat down and traced his lips, reliving the memory of her blood.

What in the bloody hell had just happened?


End file.
